


The Kingdom of Earth

by RobinEye



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Angst, Childhood Friends, Drama, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Multi, Secondary Plot, Slow Burn, Slow Burn Keith/Lance (Voltron), Voltron, childhood enemies, voltron alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-18
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-08-25 08:33:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16657705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinEye/pseuds/RobinEye
Summary: The following is a story, a tale of two lovers intertwined by circumstance. Two men promised to unite a divided country into one, to save their people under threat of the mighty Galra empire which lies to the east.Could they ever be convinced to see eye-to-eye?Slow burn involving Swordplay, Treachery, Masquerades, Rivalry, True Love, and a Joust.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> When I first created this AU back in 2016 I named Keith ‘Ketherdin’. I decided to keep it for some god-forsaken reason, and now it’s stuck. I thought about changing it, but now it pertains importance. To both the story and me. I know it’s silly but, don’t skip this fic for a name.

Charlotte Clain, Queen of Pallendria, has been stricken with grief.  
Her husband, King Marcos, was lost at sea, presumably killed in a great storm which swept the western coast for miles.  
Hundreds of condolences were gifted to the now lone-ruler, but nothing could take back the love of her life, and father to her young son, Lancelot. She vowed to never find love again.

Only a few months later, the neighboring country of Arus was filled with bittersweet remorse. Their new queen died in labor delivering her first and only son. They say the king, Theodrin, mourned for years after. His face changing to a distant and forlorn expression. Layla had been his dearest love, one who he could never forget, nor replace. When he first cradled his son, Keitherdin, in his arms, he swore to never marry again.

Under the threats of war, the two monarchs came together in grief, binding their kingdoms close in a pact.  
They knew that their kingdoms were too weak to last under the looming threat of the Galra empire, and decided together to bind the kingdoms as one. Under the protected gaze of their parents, the young Pallendria-Arus youth were to be raised as true kings, and at age eighteen, joined together in marriage. It was the only way to keep the people, and their sons, safe.

 

Eleven years have past since...


	2. Prince Lancelot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After years of anticipation, the two princes are going to meet for the first time. And Lancelot Clain has much to say about it.

Lancelot to some, was a troublesome boy, one who pulled pranks and stole sweets from the kitchens —A nuisance to the kingdom until he grew to be a man.

To others he was the friendly lad who helped the palace servants with their work and did whatever he was told.

Lancelot was neither of those.

Of course Lance caused trouble, it's what children do best. —But his charm redeemed him. So when Lance pulled the crazy stunt of jumping off the castle wall and into a nearby pond in late winter, none were too alarmed.

If it wasn't for the gardener's son, Hunk, the chances are Lance would have always been neck deep in some sort of trouble.

Lance would frequently recall the day he realized how much he relied Hunk.

_“It was the year with snow well into April, the day I jumped into the pond and he pulled me out of the freezing water, ‘hauled me to the nearest fireplace. A savior.”_

Lance still couldn't remember what he thought about jumping off the castle wall was so intriguing. But he would always defend himself by saying that it was an awesome jump.

Hammond, or Hunk Garret was a tall, bulky boy. Very kind at heart and a remarkable archer. He and his family lived a short way from the castle, a minute’s walk to a small cobblestone and brick house that housed the family of five.

The relationship between the boys was none too uncommon, they sparred their wits and built bows and arrows from tree branches. They'd even convinced a few of the guards to assist them into making a tree fort. Within a few weeks they had built a fort large enough to fit five and plenty of storage. There they stashed the apples and berries they had picked from the surrounding forest, and read books that Lance borrowed from the palace library.

Sometimes the boys would allow the other children of the palace to join them, up in the tree fort or down beneath to play war games. Hunk did his best to be patient and made sure every child was heard, and Lance tried to set the same example. The children of the palace were a group of seven, consisting of Lance, Hunk, Hunk's two younger siblings, Akiah and Jirosh, two children belonging to one of the palace cooks, and the single son of the palace Steward.

As the minors, the children looked up to the boys a great deal, even more so since Lance was their future king. To Lancelot the children of the palace were like his younger brothers and sisters.

But now instead of climbing trees or throwing stones into the river, Lancelot was trapped inside his study.

Looking back, Lance noted that had been days since his last outing with Hunk and the children. Every hour the Meeting Day drew closer and Lance's mentor had kept him shut in and nailed reviews on etiquette and courtesy into his skull. He hadn't a moment alone for ages, it seemed his mentor had him rehearsing the prime elements of formal greetings in his sleep.

But now it was early morning in the castle. All of the servants were out doing the washing, or scrubbing down the main hall from floor to ceiling.

Finally, Lance was alone. Running free though the halls, staring up at the polished wood molding that decorated the palace ceilings.

They were all ornately carved, each corner and crevice was a part of some greater art, it was absolutely mesmerizing. He followed the polished curves in the wood, twisting and winding to create waves and branches with budding flowers. The carvings were one of the hundreds of mysterious details hidden throughout the Palace. Art was everywhere, it would always be what Lance loved most about his home.

Grinning, Lance tore his gaze from above to the empty halls in front of him. He skipped down the hall, casting glances at the doors he passed and trying to recall what was behind each one. Many of these rooms were the household servant's quarters, and Lancelot knew most of them by name.

Castle Pallendria had a large staffing of course, but it felt close-knit. Maybe even unusually so, but when Charlotte had insisted everyone attend dinners toghether, that meant _everyone_.

 _“The best ruler is a compassionate one.”_ She would always say.

Lance continued to pass doorways and mirrors, halls and staircases, reveling his freedom. He was twelve years old now —almost a man! He could roam the halls of his castle whenever he wished. No teacher could tell him what to do!

The heels of his shoes clicked against polished marble as he turned to a magnificent golden archway and into the enormous ballroom.

The ballroom was by far Lance's favorite place in the palace, it had the highest ceilings, reaching so far up he could barely make out the cherubs in the mural above.

The tall windows let the sunlight stream in through undrawn drapes, making the pale walls glow. Lance walked out into the middle of the empty room, noticing a few of the high glass windows were pushed open, letting in a clean breeze that swept over the freshly polished floors.

Like everything else, the ballroom was being prepared for the Meeting Day.

The events that would follow the night would shape the rest of his life. Taking a breath, Lance stared out, smiling, into the room that would be soon filled with music, dancing, and people.

Excitement shot up his spine and made him shudder. This is is what he was meant to do.

With a warm feeling in his heart, he strayed from his thoughts, and began taking long lunges and strides across the empty room. He plié'd into a wobbly pirouette and laughed as he stumbled. The sounds echoed quietly, and the wind whistled.

Dancing had always been something that Lance loved. He began when he was only seven years old, inspired by a group of traveling dancers who had stopped and preformed in the very ballroom where he stood. It was an incredible ballet accompanied by a quartet of musicians.

After the performance Lance went up to the lead dancer, a young woman, and began bombarding her with questions. She answered them all with equal excitement.

The following morning Lance was granted with a full day lesson. He was beaming at the start, but after the third or fourth hour he was frustrated. He wanted to dance like the dancers the night before, beautifully, elegantly. Yet he teetered and fell and slipped in a constant fumbling loop. He wasn’t graceful in the least!

When he voiced his frustration, the dancer just gave him a kind but firm smile and told him that when she began ballet she was only nine years old, she began exactly as frustrated as he was, and now at sixteen she had worked hard for seven years building strength and flexibility. And if he, at seven, started off strong he might be just twice as good as she was at sixteen.

_“Skill is created through practice and commitment.”_

Later Lance would come to realize that that moment truly inspired him to work as hard as he had, to become the best he could be.

Five years later at age twelve, Lance’s ballet instructor was amazed by his dedication and perseverance.

It was this dedication that now allowed Lance to strut gracefully around the empty ballroom, to kick at the air, or take a risqué leap.

The music of an invisible orchestra filled his mind, he stepped, twirled, and jumped to the beat of the song his instructor would play on the piano whenever they practiced, he felt so free. He landed a final leap as the rétardando drew on. He pulled himself into fourth position dramatically as the song in his mind slowed once more, and ended.

Then he heard an applause.

"Beautiful Lancelot, but save yourself for this evening please."

"Wha-What!?" Lance sputtered, breaking out of his pose. He spun around to see the tall figure of his mother, smiling warmly from the other side of the hall.

Queen Charlotte was a tall, thin, and tan skinned woman with long ringlets of dark hair. The spitting image of Lancelot himself, with the same light blue eyes and upturned nose. She spoke with a fond smile on her lips.

"Not to worry dear! I come here to watch you sometimes. You're very good." She said, walking out onto the dance floor.

Lance remembered his manners, "Oh, T-thank you." He said, his face burning red.

"It's alright I won't tell anyone," She laughed, "If you promise me a dance tonight."

"Oh- Yes of course! After all who could turn down the Queen!" Lance joked, relieved. They both laughed, and a comfortable silence fell.

After a moment of hesitancy Lance asked, “Mother, what do you suppose tonight will be like?"

"I think tonight will be... Magical," Charlotte said, her eyes glided to the open doors at the side of the ballroom, she stepped foreward and gestured him to follow. Lance contentedly obliged. "You are meeting your future husband after all."

She smiled down at him as they passed through the glass door, and out onto the stone veranda.

Lance worried his sleeve, "But what if I don't like him? What if he's rude? Or mean?"

Charlotte sighed as they strode down the garden path, "Lance how many times have I told you not to worry? He's a very nice boy. You two will get along just fine —And I've heard from King Theordrin that he is quite a fan of horses." She added.

"I know it's only that... I wish I got to choose." Lance sighed, he felt guilty admitting it, but he was ...frustrated.

Charlotte stopped before a patch of hyacinths, and looked down at Lance with fierce love in her eyes. They were just _like_ his.

"I understand Lance," She said, "I too wish you could choose your own path but, this treaty needs to follow through. You _need_ to marry Prince Ketherdin and save both Pallendria and Arus. I know you understand Lance, and I'm sorry I have to place this burden upon you." Charlotte gave Lances shoulder a tight squeeze, and the worst of his anxiety subsided.

Lance took a deep breath, and promised in that moment, staring out into the gardens with his mother by his side, to try his hardest to work with Ketherdin when he and King Theordrin arrived.

It was even possible Ketherdin felt the same. He would do it for his Mother, and he would do it for Pallendria.

 

...

 

The morning and noon of the Meeting Day passed before Lance could comprehend what had happened.

Immediately after Lancelot and Charlotte returned from the gardens they were ushered off to their rooms by Tamerlain, Charlotte’s Court-Lady, to prepare for the evening.

The Meeting would be one of the biggest events to happen in Pallendria in over a decade —Since Lancelot had been _born_. The people had waited eleven years since the King of Arus and the Queen of Pallendria first announced the engagement. Marking a hopeful end to the tensions of the Great Eastern War. The union of the two countries would create decades of prosperity. It was an ingenious plan, the only thing to do now was hope.

But Lance wasn't ready.

Tonight was to meet the boy he was to _marry_ , and his anxieties were gnawing him to the core. He had stumbled when his mentor asked him to repeat his formal terms.

Minutes later Lance stood in front of the mirror in his dress room, staring at the dark blue ensemble that he was to wear.

It was a sleeved tunic that fitted at his waist with a gold chain, the tunic was finely woven with sky blue silk, and the stitches patterned like waves. Underneath he wore a pair of thick navy tights, knee high leather boots, and a deep blue cape to trail his footsteps.

Lance spent a long time admiring himself in the mirror, he felt powerful. Like the king his father was.

It was only an hour until dusk now, all of the preparations had been set and perfected.

The servants and cooks had left to busy the kitchen and dining room, and the hallways were empty when his mentor escorted him to the entrance hall.

The entrance hall was one of the most impressive rooms in the entire castle —Next to the ballroom of course.

The ceilings stood high to accommodate the dozen chandeliers and for an echo to resonate when a person of power spoke.

It felt like a cathedral, the sculpted walls and ceilings encased a feeling of holiness.

Queen Charlotte sat on her throne in a beautiful silk dress, one of her finest. Lance had only seen her wear it once before and it was certainly a sight to behold.

The lace trimmed across the collar and the cuffs of her long sleeves. The breast embroidered with small sapphires and diamonds, contrasting to the yellow gold accents hidden in the lace border. Some people called Charlotte the Sapphire Queen, Lance understood why. She was absolutely magnificent.

Tearing his eyes away from the queen, Lance surveyed the hall. Although the dozens of palace servants stood at the sides of the hall and the guards flanked entrances, it seemed empty.

He finally reached his place next to his mothers throne, where he was to stand in silence as Charlotte and King Theordrin exchanged formalities.

Lance mused the thought of Charlotte and Theordrin marrying instead of him and Ketherdin, but he then sourly recalled why that wasn't to be...

His thoughts were pushed away by a page's announcement.

_"The King and Prince of Arus approach!"_

Queen Charlotte then spoke, rising from her throne. Her dress sparkling and shimmering in the candle light, "Positions, everyone! Be mindful that these are Kings and should be treated with as much respect of that which you grace me. These are the future kings of Pallendria-Arus! But most important of all, tonight is of celebration, all are welcome to dance and rejoice this evening!" The crowd of servants cheered, and Queen Charlotte smiled,

"Now let us greet our guests with love in our hearts! Rejoice the kingdom of Pallendria!" She shouted across the hall, smiling even brighter as the people of the palace cheered.

She sat back in her place, composing herself as the crowd returned back to their respectful silence.

She shot a reassuring glance at Lance, making an overwhelming sense of ease cloud over his mind.

_"The King and Prince of Arus have arrived!"_

Lance took a deep breath, everything was going to be fine.

He turned and stood to face the entrance of the Castle of Lions.

It was time to meet his betrothed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s very late when I am posting this so I apologize for any spelling errors. Will correct them in due time if there are any.
> 
> Hit me with a kudos or a comment.  
> Stay tuned! There is always more to come...
> 
> Next update will be up by 12/01/18  
> (Or earlier ;0 )


	3. The Meeting Of Kings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doors are opening, and Lance’s throat is running dry. It’s the moment he’s been waiting for.

"Greetings and salutations to the King and Prince of Arus!"

Lancelot watched as the heavy wooden doors were pulled open, revealing five Arusians at its threshold.

Applause sounded as they strode into the palace —Three of the figures stepped off to the side of the hall. Leaving two to walk down the long navy carpet. It stretched on like a river through a forest of onlookers. The sailors swan upstream.

Lance could easily recognize King Theordrin from a distance —They had met before— He was very tall, and muscular in a lean way. He wore his stringy hair low to the jawline, framing his worn face. A thin scar cut vividly through his left eyebrow. He wore a thin velvet tunic of crimson, the color of Arus, tied at the waist with a silver belt. The collar of his dark cape was turned up, but the rest flowed and cascaded around his shoulders with prowess. Lance felt intimidated by his stance.

Glancing over to the shorter figure he was a bit taken aback, next to the King of Arus walked the prince.

Ketherdin.

The prince was very similar to his father. He had the same dark eyes and hair, the same strong jaw —Even in the way they walked they mirrored the other. Ketherdin wore a dark red tunic patterned with gold and a long cape. He looked short for twelve, but he was certainly athletic.

Lance had to swallow hard to push his nerves down again.

Finally, the Arusians arrived at the thrones. The applause died as they bowed to the Queen of Pallendria.

"My dearest Queen Charlotte," Theordrin said, his voice was deep, "I thank you with utmost gratitude for having us here in Pallendria for these next few days."

"Of course my dearest King, you and your people shall always be welcome in my country." Queen Charlotte replied, she let a smirk ghost her lips. "Or should I say what is to be _our_ country." She glanced warmly at Lancelot and Ketherdin, who seemed to be trying to stab each other with their eyes.

Lance couldn't help it! Ketherdin's stare pierced through him. It was unnerving, his gaze was set with authority and entitlement. Like he already _knew_ he was better than Lance. Lancelot raised a brow and returned Ketherdin's hostile stare with a glare of his own. They were so intent on staring each other down Lance almost missed his introduction.

"... This is Lancelot, of course." Charlotte let her eyes widen, and quickly waved a gentle hand in his direction, motioning for him to greet the King of Arus.

Breaking his eyes from Ketherdin, Lance snapped to meet the King, "It is a pleasure to finally meet you Sir." Lance covered his fault of attention smoothly, taking a low bow in the Theordrin's direction.

"The pleasure is mine, dear Prince, I've heard many things of you of late." King Theordrin said with a smile. Lance wasn't certain if that was a compliment, but he dared a quick grin.

Theordrin stepped back a bit to introduce the boy standing next to him. But instead, Ketherdin stepped up to the Queen and bowing, he said, "It is an honor to meet you my Queen, may my father and I grace your kingdom in our stay."

"The honor is mine." Charlotte replied. Ketherdin turned to Lance, his dark eyes meeting Lance’s. All hostility abandoned.

"It is also an honor to finally meet you too, Prince Lancelot. I hope both of our Kingdoms will find peace in the treaty that binds us."

_‘Wow, that was good. Did Ketherdin come up with that on the spot?’_

A quick flash of movement dared to prove him wrong, Ketherdin's eyes sweeping to the King’s, who nodded in approval. It was rehearsed, of course it was.

"Thank you Prince Ketherdin, Theodrin.” Charlotte said, nodding as she spoke, “My servants will now escort you to your rooms. I apologize for such a brief greeting but there is still much to prepare for this evening!" She smiled sweetly.

"Of course, of course! Do not let us keep you any longer," Theordrin agreed, “come Ketherdin." The prince of Arus stood to attention, and walked with his father and the servants deep into the palace halls. Charlotte stood as soon as they disappeared.

“Time for a Dance!”

 

...

 

Lance was quite glad to have freedom to walk around the castle after the meeting. So much so that he practically ran out of the Hall. He sped out a sidedoor and passed the ballroom which was now illuminated with yellow candlelight.

He made his way to the garden path where he and his mother had stood only hours before. He needed another minute alone, just to compose himself.

It didn't go that bad… did it?

_'No… it went horribly! You just stared at Keitherdin like you wanted to kill him! What were you thinking?! All those lessons and drilling for three minutes of disaster!’_

Lance kicked a rock, it tumbled into the bushes.

_‘Well it's not like it was completely my fault, Ketherdin was crazy. He just kept glaring at me, has no one told him how rude that is?’_

He slowed his pace and walked next to a row of rose bushes in decaying bloom. He’d watched all of them bud and bloom, but summer had taken its toll.

Lance supposed he‘d been rude as well. Through his fears, Lance had hoped that his betrothed would be _everything_ he dreamed of. Someone to sweep him off his feet at their first greeting, but he realized that that wasn't going to be true. 

Lance gazed back at the red rose bush, pulling at the spiky leaves as he passed, and was struck with a _tremendous_ idea. Turning and leaning into the bush, Lance reached back for one of the unwilted roses, the thorns piercing the palms of his hands, and picked it.

…Maybe the engagement could work after all.

 

…

 

Lancelot ran up the garden path, stashing the rose under his cape, secured beneath belt.

He made his way to the enormous ballroom. After sliding inconspicuously through one of the large glass doors, Lance hurried his way to the far end of the room.

Four chairs had been set on a raised platform in honor, two trimmed with blue, and two with red. Queen Charlotte was already sat in her own, waiting for the guests to arrive. Her eyes met Lance's as he approached.

"Ah! Lance I thought you were going to miss the dance, here have a seat." She waved to the chair at her side. Lance obediently walked to his seat. Charlotte asked him as he did,

"So, what do you think about the kings of Arus?" Lance sat and thought back to the few minutes they stood before him, it had felt like hours,

"I'm not sure, we didn’t really converse with one another —But King Theordrin seems... Very powerful." Charlotte nodded,

"That he is."

Lance looked away, "But Ketherdrin…” He paused, thinking, “I don't know about him. He seems a little brash, but I won't be able to tell until I’ve really talked to him… I hope we can get along." He ended his uncertain sentence with a smile and looked back to Charlotte.

"He was probably just nervous,” Charlotte teased, her nose scrunching as she smiled, “Your father was just the same.” Her mirth seemed to radiate through the room, accentuating the bright glow of the candles.

 “Talk to him, show him who you are is nothing to be afraid of." Her comment made Lance laugh, but the conversation ended there, there was not much else that needed to be said.

Besides that, the first of the guests had begun to arrive. And so, the formalities continued. Each party-goer entered the ballroom and greeted the Pallendrian Royals, then drifted off into the ballroom. Charlotte sent Lancelot small glances and smiles between them.

But by the time Lancelot had greeted his fourteenth or fifteenth Duchess-of-wherever, he was sick of formal. Excusing himself from the platform Lance quickly looked around for Hammond, the head gardener and Hunk's father. He wasn't sure that he and his wife would be here tonight, but it at least gave him something to do until the dance started.

He walked around the edge of the room, eyes glazing over face after unfamiliar face. He listened to the chatter and small talk filtering from the crowd. How could adults understand one another? They all say one thing but mean another, ridiculous in Lance's opinion. Like waste of breath.

He was returning to the thrones just as King Theordrin and Ketherdin entered the room. The crowd stilled as Arusians stalked their way across the noisy ballroom.

Lance hurried to get back to his seat, missing these formalities, no matter how lame, would cost him dearly.

He noticed Ketherdin spotted him through the crowd. He walked even faster, and slid into his chair with only a wary glance and a raised eyebrow from the Queen to signal his entrance.

_‘Here we go again.’_

The King and Prince bowed for the rulers of Pallendria, then took their chairs as the ballroom quieted.

Charlotte stood, "Greetings, friends, accomplices, and honorable guests. I'm here to welcome you to this great celebration and of the joining of Pallendria-Arus. We are here to celebrate the marriage of our sons and future kings, Prince Lancelot Clain of Pallendria, and Prince Ketherdin Kogane of Arus!" She waved to each of the Princes in turn, they both stood as their names were announced.

Lance swallowed and tried to look confident in front of the large crowd at his feet.

"Let us all rejoice together for this great Union! Let us rejoice!" Charlotte chanted, and the crowd cheered.

 

_"Let the dance begin!"_


	4. The Dance of Pallendria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The long anticipated ball begins, but chaos follows close.

"Let the dance begin!"

Queen Charlotte's voice rang through the ballroom, filling everyone with excitement. The small orchestra in the corner of the hall started with a flourish, and as the music and the crowd dispersed, Lancelot took a step towards his mother.

He bowed, "May I have this dance as promised, My Queen?" He glanced up, a sly smirk taking over his expression.

"Of course!" The Queen laughed, then clearing her throat, she restated elegantly, "But of course, my dear Prince." She took Lance's hand in hers, and they strode gracefully onto the dance floor.

Charlotte's magnificent dress shimmered and sparkled in the candlelight, making the crowd gasp in awe. When they reached the center of the dance floor, Lance guided their hands into the proper positions, one on Charlotte's waist and the other holding her hand up high. As soon as Charlotte let her hand fall on Lance's shoulder he took a lurching step backwards, surprising the queen who laughed as she stumbled to catch up.

Through the din of the ballroom, Lance watched other guests were begin to dance in suit. The bright ballroom seemed to radiate the combined joy of the participants, the music and laughter ringing from the highest point in the ceiling. Lance looked to Charlotte, pride sparkling in her eyes. Lance laughed and lunged farther into the steps, Charlotte joined him in his exaggerated dance. Both attempting to keep their faces regal for effect, but failing as their laughter burst from their chests. They danced on and on, —for five songs at least!— until Charlotte had to excuse herself from the dance floor. She stopped them at the end of a particularity quick-paced Waltz.

"I'm sorry Lance but I can't keep you to myself all night." She said, slightly out of breath.

“Same to you! Theodrin looks like he’d like to have a word anyways.” He inclined his head to the thrones where Theordrin watched them. He raised his eyebrows as he and the queen made eye contact.

“Well then Lancelot,” Charlotte said, turning back to him, “I’ll see you next at your formal dance with Ketherdin.”

‘Oh right’

He and Ketherdin were supposed to dance solo as the highlight of the evening. And Lance was absolutely dreading it. But, there was still a lot of time between them and now. He forced himself to forget about it as he and Charlotte walked to the edge of the dance floor.

He must’ve made a face because Charlotte layed a hand on his shoulder and reassured him yet again. 

“You’ll do fine, nothing can go wrong.”

She then bid him farewell, and left to find Theodrin. 

Now that he and the Queen had parted, many of the duchesses and noble-women approached him with light-hearted invitations to dance with the charming young prince. He happily accepted all of them in turn.

He danced and danced, with whoever asked and whoever didn't, Lance wasn't even paying attention to who he was dancing with anymore. He swore he took the Duke of Vinus by hand at one point in the night.

Soon enough the cooks and servants rolled in the banquet tables, loaded with trays and platters full of all sorts of delicacies, roast venison and red grapes from the surrounding vineyards, cheeses, fresh breads and pastries, even fish brought in from the Sire lakes. The guests flocked to the buffets, and Lance begrudgingly stayed behind.

He knew if he joined the guests right away he'd get a week long smacking from his teacher. It was apparently considered _rude_ for the host to eat before the guests. Lance thought it unfair but he _did not want to be smacked again._ He was starting to get headaches.

The Prince glanced over back at the thrones, hoping to catch another glimpse of his mother, but instead his gaze was met by Ketherdin, who seemed to be holding back from joining the other guests at the buffet. Lance thought of the rose tucked away deep in his robes, and made a quick decision.

He took off, strutting valiantly across the empty dance floor up to Ketherdin, who then seemed lost in thought. He was staring up at the high mural. Lance stood to the side of him and followed his gaze up above.

The mural was stunning, even from such a distance; it displayed images of the sky and the sea, both raging against the other. Large horses from the water kicked and reared at cherubs and the wind, spraying the sea to the clouds. The cherubs shot back at the Horses with fury. Lance had never asked what the mural meant but he had a sinking suspicion that it represented the deep rivalry between Pallendria and Arus.

He returned his gaze to Ketherdin, daring to speak. "It's pretty spectacular right?" Lance said with a smirk. Ketherdin jumped, he hadn't noticed that Lancelot had approached him.

"Uh- yes." Ketherdin caught his voice in an attempt to cover his surprise. "It's quite marvelous and your chandeliers make it seem even more so."

"Pfft, c'mon Ketherdin it's okay to not be all gross and formal with me. I'm not quite a king yet!" Lance joked. Ketherdin stiffened in surprise, "Do you want to get some food? You looked like you wanted to grab something." Lance asked.

"Oh… Yes I suppose, but shouldn't we let the guests eat first?" Ketherdin responded.

"Well, you're a guest right?" Lance smiled, motioning to take Ketherdin by the arm. Keitherdin cautiously obliged. Lance beamed.

The Pallendrian drew the Prince of Arus along with him across the ballroom. When they reached the buffet tables, Lance began taking a few jelly-filled pastries. Ketherdin hung back. Lance noticed Ketherdin's awkwardness, and was amused by his demeanor.

"Here, grab one of these." Lance said, handing Ketherdin a pastry. Ketherdin shyly took the sweet and followed Lance to a corner of the ballroom, out of the way from the other party-goers. He turned behind a curtain and disappeared. Ketherdin slowly followed.

Behind the curtain was a surprisingly wide stone verdana, the curtain the boys walked through was a large draped floor to ceiling window. The castle continued to surprise Ketherdin in the strangest ways. As Ketherdin stepped away from the glass pane, Lancelot carefully closed it -like a door, leaving only the smallest crack so that the conundrum of the ballroom could be heard.

Ketherdin stood aside as Lancelot walked to the edge of the verdana and sat, boots just barely brushing the grass. He beckoned for Ketherdin to sit with him.

The summer night was warm and welcoming, the grass was a festival of fireflies. After he had settled, Lancelot turned to him and smiled at the pastries.

"These are my favorite, our cook makes them with the apples from the forest orchard." He took a bite out of his, "They're amazing."

Ketherdrin couldn't help but laugh at the prince's enamored expression, but Lancelot was too involved with his pastry to notice. Feeling brave, Ketherdin took a big bite out of his own pastry. It was... Wonderful. The baked apple was sweet and spicy against his tongue. And the dough around it was flaky and buttery.

"... Wow." Ketherdin sighed. He'd never tasted anything like it before. It was amazing. Ketherdin quickly finished off his own pastry in a few bites, trying to savor it was much as he could. But it was gone far too soon. Lancelot glanced slyly over at Ketherdin who was busy licking his fingers.

"It’s good right?" He laughed.

"It was fantastic!" Ketherdin exclaimed quietly. "What is it called? I've never had one of those before." Lance was rather surprised, surely they had turnovers in other countries.

“It's called an apple turnover." Lance handed Ketherdin another pastry from his stash.

"I must ask my fathe- the... King of we can get these in our kitchens as well." Ketherdin said excitedly. Lancelot smiled, tearing into another turnover almost as eagerly as Ketherdin.

"Are there apple trees in your kingdom?" Lancelot asks between bites, "Because you can't make them without them. Although, I guess you could use a different fruit too, but apples are the best."

"I don't think we have any." Ketherdin replied, “I’m pretty sure all of ours are traded in from Balra.”

"What kind of great country doesn't have apple trees?" Lance joked.

"Arus is a great country." Keitherdin snapped. "We don’t need to grow our own."

Lance was alarmed at Keitherdin's rise in volume, then cursed himself for not being more diligent about his jests. But he wasn't about to apologize either, he was still wary of the death glare Keitherdin had knocked down on him earlier in the entrance hall. They both continued to munch in silence. Staring at the grass dimly lit by the early moonlight. Crickets hopped from stem to stem on the lawn.

Lance's mind was racing to bring up a topic for conversation to change the mood, but before he could speak he heard the music in the ballroom turn to a halt.

"We have to go back." Lance said, quickly pulling himself to his feet. He held his hand out to Ketherdin who reluctantly allowed himself be hauled to his feet. Lance led him by hand back to the window, and through the curtains. Once they were inside, Lance pinned Queen Charlotte as the speaker. They had barely enough time to hear her announce,

"-Lancelot and Ketherdin!" before all eyes were on them. She must have introduced them again, probably expecting them to dance together as previously planned.

He knew the both of them were dreading it. Lance blushed as he remembered his palm in Ketherdin's, but now was not the time. He turned to the prince, trying not to laugh from how Ketherdin had turned a new shade of red, and pulled him out into the empty ballroom.

Ketherdin stumbled, but Lance held him up steady. As soon as the reached the center Lance put his hands on Ketherdin's shoulder and waist, and the Arusian quickly followed in suit.

"Can you dance?" Lance whispered.

"O-of course!" Ketherdin harshly whispered back, he had to look up to meet Lancelot in the eyes.

Before Lance could say another thing, the music started up again, and he pulled Ketherdin into a dance. The music that played was quick and joyful, a little faster than Ketherdin could seem to handle. But Lance kept his movements quick and clean trying to save Ketherdin's dignity the best he could. Ketherdin was a blushing mess, stumbling over himself and clinging onto Lance. He didn't like being led, controlled by a stranger. But he held on. He had to be strong.

Lance continued leading them in circles across the marble floor. The two princes were the spectacle of the evening, the reason for celebration. They had to be good if not perfect. This night _had_ to go well.

Soon enough the music slowed, and so did Lance's pace. Ketherdin was relieved that the dance had finally come to an end.

But before Ketherdin could unclasp his hands, he felt himself being swept off his feet. Alarm sprung from Ketherdin as he faced the ceiling. Lancelot leaning over him with a rose in hand. 

 

He panicked. 

In a second Ketherdin freed himself.

This was too much. _Too much._

He spun on his heels, and ran out of the ballroom, Lance’s voice ringing in his ears.


	5. Leisure Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkwardness post-dance is due.

  
  
Prince Ketherdin awoke to bright sunlight, gleaming into his newly woken eyes. He shut them immediately and pulled his head back under his sheets with a groan.

As he recovered from the unwelcome haze, the gears in his mind whirred in a sea of thoughts.  
Firstly, his chambermaid was never to draw the curtains before he woke. He was certainly going to tell her off again. After breakfast of course, Ketherdin was starving, and the scent of fresh lavender only seemed to sharper his appetite.  
Lavender...? His room never smelt of lavender....  
Ketherdin slowly lifted his head from the bedsheets and glared at his eerily unfamiliar surroundings. Royal blue curtains and rugs decorated the room, which was built in unfamiliar large gray bricks of stone. An elegant fireplace across from his bed had been snuffed out overnight, though the embers still cracked from within. This wasn't his chamber at all! He shot up in alarm as the memories of the previous day flooded his mind. The meeting, the _dance_ ...  
  
He had spoiled _everything_.

  
  
  
...

 

  
"I just don't _get_ him Hunk!" Lance cried, pacing back and forth on the rickety wooden floor of the treehouse. "He's just ridiculous! He barely spoke to anyone last night including me! And then he decides he hates me all of the sudden after the dance, I might have messed up a little, but who could just storm out of a ballroom?" Lance finished, flailing his arms wide for emphasis.  
  
"I don't think he hates you." Hunk said from his spot on the floor. He was messing around with a stick and pieces of twine, a furrow of concentration marking his brow. "I think he's just maybe- maybe scared? Nervous? Pallendria is a whole different place than Arus... ‘Whole different people..."  
  
"Pfft, the Prince of Arus? Scared? I doubt it. Did you know he's already learning combat?!" Lance scoffed, avidly avoiding the subject. "He has a master trainer and everything! A war hero! His name is Shiba-gonay or something."  
  
Hunk snapped up, eyes wide in astonishment.  
"Wait do you mean Shirogane the Reborn?! Lance! You don't know about Shirogane?!" Lancelot shook his head,

"Wow! Alright, so years ago Shirogane was captured by the Galra emperor himself. They tortured him halfway to insanity! He even has a Magic Galra Arm, from the Garla leaders enchantress!" Hunk explained.  
  
"No way !" Lance exclaimed, throwing himself down next to Hunk, both boys enthralled by the tale.  
  
"Yeah! A lot of people don't trust him because he's part Galra, literally, he's banished from Vinus and Balrac. Probably more places too." Hunk concluded with a sad nod.  
  
"No way! I'm getting the map out." Lance said, quickly crawling over to a crate filled with stolen books from the library.  
  
"Balrac seems like such a nice kingdom." Hunk sighed.  
  
"Really? It rhymes with yak." Lance replied pessimistically.  
  
"What's a yak?" Hunk asked.  
  
"I don't know, but it sounds like the sound makes when a dog throws up."  
  
They both burst out laughing  
  
"Ewww Lance you're going to make me throw up." Hunk giggled from his corner.  
  
"That's my job, of course." Lance smirked. "But hey I found the map!"  
  
"Lay it out!" Hunk said excitedly, scooting over to Lance, who crouched as he rolled out the large piece of parchment.  
  
"Alright." Lance began. "Here's Pallendria," he  
pointed to a jagged shape outlined in blue. "And here's Vinus, and Balrac, and Marsan... And Arus..." Lance pronounced the word Arus with a small groan of distaste.  
  
"Speaking of Arus aren't you supposed to spend the day with Ketherdin?" Hunk asked, turning to Lance.  
  
"Psh yeah, if he ever wakes up." Lance sighed frustratedly, he did not want anything to _do_ with that stuck up Prince. "I'll just bring him to the orchard and ditch him, then we can work on our catapults."  
  
"I'm not sure that's a good idea..." Hunk cautioned.  
  
"He'll be fine, Prince of the Kingdom of warfare and stuff yeah?" Lance nudged Hunk’s shoulder. "Now let's get back to Balrac..."

 

  
...

  
  
  
Ketherdin had decided that the best way to deal with Lancelot, was to not deal with him at all. He'd fake an illness and he'd be sent back to Arus before he knew it. But he knew it was a foolish idea, and it was only a matter of time before someone would be called in to wake him. Only a matter of _days_ before he'd be back in Arus, training with Shirogane and learning about how to rule his kingdom. Ketherdin let out a sigh of defeat. Maybe a day spent with Lancelot wouldn't be the worst.  
  
A knock at the door started him, he quickly sat up in a formal manner. He cleared his throat,  
  
"Come in."  
  
The large wooden door swung outwards and in stepped a short woman followed by a rolling tray. The maid pulled the tray to the end of his bed then bowed quickly.  
  
"The King requested that your Breakfast should be served in your chamber. And that by the turn of the hour you should be ready to seize the rest of this gorgeous day with Prince Lancelot and those who wish to accompany him." The maid squeaked joyfully.  
  
"Yes thank you, tell my father I will be ready." Ketherdin replied politely. He watched as the turned away and closed the door softly behind her before leaping out of bed to the rolling tray.  
The delicious smell of eggs and ham prodded his appetite, and almost as soon as his breakfast was there, it was gone. The palace cooks sure knew how to cook. Feeling content, Keitherdin moved over to the window, curious about how Pallendria would look from this height.  
It was beautiful, the rolling hills of forest surrounded the castle, off to one side a river rushed with the spring downpour. Below him, a small clearing showed figures running around, children perhaps. Maybe Lancelot was down there.  
  
Eventually Ketherdin moved away from the window and found his chest of clothes by the fire. He picked out some casual robes and dressed by himself, making sure to hoist his dagger to his belt, tugged on his boots, and waited.  


  
...

 

  
Lancelot and Hunk had found themselves babysitting, the other two Garret siblings buzzing to hear from Lance about the night before. Hunk too, although Lance had already told him almost everything.  
  
"Are we really going to meet Ketherdin?!" Hunk's brother Jirosh exclaimed, bouncing up and down.  
  
"Prince Ketherdin." Akiah, Hunk's younger sister scolded. "But we _are_ going to meet him yeah?" She asked Hunk.  
  
"I think so." He replied distractedly. Lance was off in a corner of the courtyard, messing with a puddle. "He's probably a little nervous so don't jump on him or anything."  
  
"I won't." Akiah promised. "But Jirosh might."  
  
"I won't!" Jirosh defended. His small eyebrows scrunched up in indignation.  
  
Hunk laughed, "Alright you two, just be polite. He is one our future kings after all." He said mussing up Jirosh's dark hair.  
  
"Not if I can help it!" Lancelot yelped from his corner.  
  
"Lance we are _not_ going to throw mud at him!" Hunk sighed.  
  
"Okay but what about those apples I left in the-"  
  
"Lance!"  
  
" _Joking_ , joking."

 

...

  
  
Ketherdin jumped up as soon as he heard the knock at his door.  
  
"Come in." He called. The large door swung back, it was the maid once again, her voice as cheerful as ever.  
  
"Your father requests your presence in the main hall. Your Ladyship awaits." She said, bowing.  
  
"Thank you." Ketherdin replied, standing from the bed. He followed her out the door and into the marvelous hallway. Everything about Pallendria seemed to shine, the curtains always drawn letting shining sunlight gleam on the polished floors. Tapestries decorated the walls, displaying scenes of battle, and ships sailing over the Great Seas, and of forests dotted with elk and wolves. Besides him and the maid, the castle seemed empty. They made their way down a grand staircase to the entrance hall.  
His father sat with Queen Charlotte in a pair of chairs off to the side of the thrones, chattering like a pair of sparrows.  
He and the maid walked up to the pair. They laughed at something Theordrin said before Charlotte turned her gaze to meet them.  
  
"Ah my dear Prince, did you sleep well?" Charlotte tittered kindly.  
  
"Yes my lady." Ketherdin replied, nodding in her direction. He turned to the king. "Good day father."  
  
"Good day, my son." Theordrin smiled. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Yes sir." Ketherdin affirmed, bowing stiffly.  
  
"Fantastic, shall we go?" He asked Charlotte.  
  
"No time like the present." She smiled in return. Theordrin stood and held his hand out for the queen, she kindly took it and rise to her feet.  
  
"Lancelot is out with his friend Hammond, the other children that live in the palace will be about as well." Charlotte said as they walked to a side entrance. "I heard they're all very excited to meet you!"  
  
"Make sure to show them what a real Arussian is like." The King chided playfully. Ketherdin smiled, although he felt a little wary. His father was never in such high spirits. Ketherdin followed the king and queen out the small doorway and into a garden.

  
  
...

  
  
  
Lance wasn't really looking when the King, his mother and the Prince turned the corner of the stone wall. He was too busy scowling at the dirt. Brooding about how loathsome this day would be. Hunk had given up trying to cheer him up a while ago. He knew it was a little childish to pout but it might have been his only chance he got for a while to groan about his misfortune.  
But maybe he would try to get to know Ketherdin. Maybe show him the pond behind the garden, or the stables. The Queen did say he liked horses. But before he could suggest any of that to Hunk, he heard Akiah gasp,  
  
"Good day my Queen!" She exclaimed. Lancelot whipped around.  
  
"Good day to you as well Akiah." The Queen replied. Beside her stood King Theordrin, and Ketherdin.  
Lance scrambled to his feet.  
  
"Well Ketherdin, I think you'll find yourself quite comfortable. If you need anything, just ask Lancelot." Charlotte said.  
  
"Yes, thank you." Ketherdin replied.  
  
Charlotte gave him a quick flash of her beaming smile, and then turned to the king.  
  
"We should be going, I have much to discuss with you my liege."  
  
"Of course, my Queen, we will go now." He said, and as they turned to leave he placed a hand on Ketherdin's shoulder, before disappearing behind the stone wall.  
  
The children stood in silence, not quite sure where to begin. Ketherdin shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Besides Lancelot, who stood awkwardly in one corner, Ketherdin had never met many kids before. They all looked similar, with the same dark hair and skin. The oldest out of the three children was approximately his age. Ketherdin guessed that he was the Hammond Queen Charlotte had mentioned.  
Clearing his throat Ketherdin took a step forward, but was interrupted by Lancelot.  
  
"Alright everyone stop drooling," He said walking over to Ketherdin, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "this, indeed, is Prince Ketherdin of Arus."  
Ketherdin barely had time to throw him a glare, what was with the attitude?  
  
The girl who looked like Hammond gasped.   
"Oh Lance he's so pretty!"  
  
"I'd agree but he'd punch me." Lancelot joked.  
  
"I would not!" Keitherdin gasped dumbfoundedly, blushing at the complement. Now his fiancé was accusing him of assault!  
  
"'Tis a jest my good sir." Lancelot replied, mock bowing. "But may I introduce my good friends here?"  
  
"Uh—"  
  
"These are the Garret children, Hunk, Akiah, and Jirosh." Lance interrupted.  
  
The boy that Ketherdin thought was Hammond approached and gave a quick bow. "It's an honor to meet you Ketherdin." He smiled, "My names Hammond, after my father, but everyone calls me Hunk."  
  
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Ketherdin replied.  
  
"Alright. Now that everyone is acquainted, let's show him around the grounds, what say you?" Lance inquired.  
  
"Let's go!" Akiah shouted. 

 

Keitherdin didn't know if he liked what was happening.

He was only meant to spend the afternoon with Lancelot- who was actually beginning to appear respectable- and instead he was being dragged along by two children through the forest. This was supposed to be their first day together, and Ketherdin had hoped that he could have time to apologize for the night prior but with all these other children around, he supposed not. Now Ketherdin was being led by the sleeve out of the courtyard by one of the Garret children, Hunk and Lancelot trailing behind.

"Pallendria is the best, especially our castle!" The boy named Jirosh exclaimed, "Lance's great-great-great grandfather built it, right Lance?"

"Yep." Lancelot answered. He popped his 'p' at the end of his word.

"This is the tree fort that Hunk and Lance built!" Akiah exclaimed running towards a gigantic ash tree at the edge of the clearing, it's branches twisting and curving from the trunk. It was beautiful, but unfamiliar.

Arus was a kingdom surrounded by conifers, the woods back home were laid thick with a carpeting of needles, muffling footsteps and sounds. Here there was springy grasses and flowers everywhere. Ketherdin hadn't seen anything like it! Akiah had sprinted off ahead of them to wait below the tree, it's shadow loomed over her small figure. As he and Jirosh approached, Keith began to make out the shape of a wooden platform in between the branches.

"Lance and Hunk spent an entire month building it," Akiah continued, "it's the most amazing place ever." They had reached the base of the ash tree, and Jirosh motioned to a rope ladder swinging a foot or so above the ground.

"Do you want to see it?" He said pointing up above with his free hand.

"Woah woah woah," Lancelot interrupted. Ketherdin had missed his arrival, "let's not forget to ask the makers of the fort permission first."

"Lance..." Whined Hunk. Lancelot ignored him, standing his ground.

"Lance can we go up and show Ketherdin?" Akiah queried obediently.

"Yes of course." Lancelot replied, a fake tone of flattery drawn across his words. Ketherdin fought to keep his expression neutral as he was led up the ladder by Jirosh and Akiah, the rope was rough and scratched beneath his un-calloused hands. He wondered if they were even bothered by it. As soon as he pushed himself up on the platform, Ketherdin couldn't help but be amazed, though it was the middle of morning the sun was muffled through the density of the leaves, casting only occasional beams of light where it fought through. Because of this, everything under the canopy shone in an ethereal shade of green. It masked everything around them. The platform itself was also impressive, it was put together with care and forethought. Everything was lined up perfectly and corralled by a small wood railing around the edges. There was a basket in one corner that Ketherdin could only assume held slingshots or maybe twine. After a moment of admiring the sight Jirosh said,

"Isn't it fantastic?!"

“It is." Ketherdin replied. Akiah gasped abruptly,

"We should show him the gardens! And the library!"

"And the pond!" Jirosh yelled back.

"Let's go Ketherdin!" Akiah exclaimed, running towards the ladder. Jirosh was right behind his sister, too excited to wait. Ketherdin waited until they both had made it to the ground safely before descending. As soon as his feet hit the ground Lancelot said,

"They're quite energetic huh?" He was gazing off into the forest where they'd disappeared.

"Yes," Ketherdin replied, a little exasperated, looking up just in time to see Hunk running to herd his two younger siblings. It made him smile. "I don't have any brothers or sisters, it must be quite a handful,"

"It is," Lancelot sighed, "sometimes I think want to ship them off to Galra heh, but I don't think I could stand being apart from them," They said nothing more as they followed the Garret children into the forest.

 

...

 

After seeing the forest, the gardens, the river, and the orchard, the sky was dusking. The Garret children were soon called to home and the princes were left to their own air of awkwardness. Ketherdin didn't know where to go so he just followed wherever Lancelot went, neither of them spoke much. Lancelot had quieted exceptionally since Hunk had left, and Ketherdin thought that maybe the prince did have a shy side after all. The sky had begun to cloud over, threatening rain, and Ketherdin had followed Lancelot down a rose and hydrangea lined path down to a small muddy pond. Lancelot sat on a rock on the water's edge, but made no effort to invite Ketherdin to join him, so he lingered a few feet away.

The pond itself wasn't much to look at. A dense thicket covered the sky above their heads, just high enough for them both to stand comfortably. Around the ponds edges circled cattails and small stubby shrubs straining for the small rays of light that filtered through the branches. The grass around them was sparse from the mud, no flowers grew. Ketherdin attempted to admire the dark murky water, but found it unappealing, it didn’t seem very special. He cleared his throat before saying to Lancelot,

"I'm… sorry about last night, I shouldn't have run off. It was foolish of me,"

"Yes, it was." Lancelot replied curtly, "Rude too."

"I really am sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I think I embarrassed myself more really." Ketherdin continued, Lancelot wasn't looking at him.

"Well I guess I expected more of you then." The prince replied, his voice suddenly sharp. Why was he so angry all of a sudden?

"I'm trying to apologize." Ketherdin argued, his volume steadily raising, he didn't want to fight.

"You don't have to shout." Lancelot countered, then sighed, "I'm sorry. I-I'm just having a hard time piecing things together, alright?" He paused as he picked at the stones by his feet, "The thing is... We don't know anything about each other a-and we're already getting married? It's unfair don't you think?"

"Maybe, but our kingdoms need us—" Ketherdin argued, but Lancelot cut him short,

"But I don't love you," Lancelot burst out, his voice was thinning,  "I don't... Know if I can have a marriage without love it's... just wrong," Ketherdin took a step forwards.

"It's not about us Lancelot, it's about our people. There are lots of marriages without love, it's about keeping our kingdoms alive,"

"Oh yeah? Did your father tell you that?" Lance said, the hint of a sneer ghosting across his face as he tossed a rock into the water. Ketherdin paused before replying.

"Yes. And I believe him because Arus is one of the greatest kingdoms around," Ketherdin shot back. Lancelot felt his patience snap,

"Well he did do a great job on raising a coward running away from the gala like that!"

"I already apologized! Do you think I want to be part of this?" Ketherdin yelled back.

"Then you should just leave!" Dead silence followed, Ketherdin felt heat burning at the backs of his eyes.

 

He just wanted to go home— Away from the too-cheerful blues and apple orchards, away from Lancelot and his unrealistic expectations, staring him down with his sky-blue eyes. He couldn't even look at him. He couldn't bear another moment beside him. So Ketherdin took the last of his resolve and turned heel, walking back up the path.

He began to run as soon as he was out of the trees the and pushed the tears of frustration out of his eyes. Now he knew Lancelot hated him.

 

...

 

Lancelot felt absolutely monstrous. He didn't want to fight with Ketherdin, but he did, and what he said probably ruined things forever. He ran after Ketherdin, calling out his name.

"Ketherdin? I'm sorry! Please come talk to me,"

"Please Ketherdin, I didn't want to make you upset!"

 

He checked the garden, the orchard, the treehouse. But nothing lent him any wind to where Ketherdin has gone. He wouldn't have told the King would he? No, he was too proud to do that... Lance felt himself panicking, small shocks of fear pulsed his every movement.

...He really messed up.

 

...

 

Ketherdin was in the garden wondering how he was going to escape this nightmare. His head low between his knees as the clouds above him began to thunder. He will admit that he cried after storming off, he sat under the hydrangea bush he is under now and cursed Lancelot's name into the wind. The only thing he could do now was to go back, so he did.

He didn't know how long he had been hiding, but as soon as he stepped inside the main hall it began to rain. The slow pitter-patters echoing off the castle roof as Ketherdin aimlessly roamed through the halls. The palace was surprisingly empty of staff, quite empty of anyone. So he kept to his thoughts as he stared, ogling at the ceiling. Though he'd much rather be at home, he had to admit that the castle of Pallendria was beautiful. The ornate carvings that swirled above his head were dazzling to watch, with each inch the polished wood pushed movement across the gazers eyes. It was like the whole ceiling was a moving tapestry. As Ketherdin moved on deeper into the palace, everything caught his eye, the embroidery, the pottery, the candelabras. It seemed as if everything was on display. He was admiring a portrait when he turned and crashed into a woman carrying a three foot high stack of sheets.

"I'm so sorry!" Ketherdin gasped, both he and the maid had fallen to their knees, struggling to refold all of the sheets that now draped themselves all over the hallway.

"It's quite alright I-I should have been aware of my surroundings sir," the woman stumbled, grabbing a sheet the same time as Ketherdin. She looked up at him and her face flushed, "OH! O-oh my! Prince Ketherdin I am so sorry, please accept my most humble apologies!" She stammered, bowing deeply.

"Oh no it's alright," Ketherdin consoled, trying to calm her down.

"No no oh dear I simply cannot believe my mind was elsewhere," she continued, "I am so deeply sorry milord."

"It's alright, really!" Ketherdin was starting to blush now, "L-let me help you with these," Ketherdin began to pick up the sheets beside him and fold them, the maid looked like she wanted to refuse, but she only thanked him.

"...you are truly a graceful gentleman milord." She said, pulling the folded sheets into a pile.

"It's no trouble at all." Ketherdin replied, "say have you seen the King or Queen recently? I must have a word."

"I'm afraid not sir, they still must be conferencing in the queens study," she paused as she reached for another sheet, "but I did happen to spy Prince Lancelot in the library. It seems he spends most of his time there," she said with a hint of amusement. He was surprised, Lancelot didn't seem like the reading type to him.

"... Was that of any help?" She asked him. Ketherdin hadn't realized he stopped folding.

"Yes, actually, thank you," He folded the last sheet, and handed it to the kind maid beside him. He smiled, "There, all stacked again." They had stacked the sheets into two piles, one of which the maid was picking up again. Ketherdin gingerly put the second pile on top of the first. The maid looked grateful.

"Thank you for your help milord. Is there anything else I can do for you?" She asked.

"Yes, could you point me to the direction of the library?"

"Kindly sir, turn down this hallway, make a right and it's the double doors on your left."

"Thank you miss." Ketherdin said. The maid bowed and continued on her way.

 

When Ketherdin first reached the library, he thought it was empty. The tall bookcases stood ominously around the room, filled with books and scrolls and maps so old, that they were bound with strings of horsehair instead of twine. The room itself was dark, quiet, and air was crisp with the smell of rain mixing with the dry musty smell of the books, someone must have opened a window.

He took a step into the room. The library was big, with two levels, several reading areas, and many more tapestries in a forest of paper. He had heard that the Clain family was fond of reading but... This was magnificent. Ketherdin began exploring the small dusty roads that trailed through the bookcases, occasionally stopping to inspect an intriguing book or scroll. He soon stepped out of the shelves into the main reading area, a large cleared space for tables and chairs that faced tall windows. A few of them were open near a small huddled figure sitting at a far table. It was Lancelot. Ketherdin approached slowly. He looked genuinely upset, with watery eyes and a forlorn expression across his face.

"Lancelot..." Ketherdin called softly. Lance's head snapped up. His eyes met with Ketherdin's.

"Ketherdin!" He gasped, standing up, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have yelled at you I-"

"It's nothing." Ketherdin said, he was getting tired of these apologies.

"Ketherdin—"

"It's nothing." He snapped, then saying quietly, "let's just not speak of it."

"I—" Lancelot tried again.

"Stop, I don't care for you apology." Ketherdin pressed, "Let's just, do something else." Lancelot looked at him with a frustrated gaze before sighing and motioning to the table in front of him,

"Care for a game of cards then?"

 

...

 

The Arusians left Pallendria three days later. Things... had not gone smoothly. The boys had another fight, Lancelot had given up on apologizing. Their remaining time together had been layered in hostility, snapping and bickering. It was disappointing for the king and queen, for the princes too, so it was decided they'd try again the following year...

 

 

 


End file.
